


Partition

by fratboyoforome



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Brother/Brother Incest, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, basically they fuck in a limousine, limo seeeex, literally no plot whatsover to be seen here, some of the longest smut i've ever written, sorry - Freeform, written for felix bc im love him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 21:10:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13326426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fratboyoforome/pseuds/fratboyoforome
Summary: On the way to Finarfin's annual Christmas Gala for the wealthy and/or famous, two of his nephews have a little fun in their limousine. The 'fun' leaves Celegorm a little frustrated, however, and they decide to take the 'scenic route' home.





	Partition

**Author's Note:**

  * For [doodlebutt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/doodlebutt/gifts), [LiveOakWithMoss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveOakWithMoss/gifts).



> for my babe [felix](http://curufinsdaddyissues.tumblr.com) whom i love and adore; i think this is the most explicit thing i've ever written, hope you're proud of me, sweetling <3
> 
> and for [june](http://imindhowwelayinjune.tumblr.com) who got me into this pairing and into writing fanfic
> 
> hit me up on [tumblr](http://fratboy-of-orome.tumblr.com) for a chat abt feanorions, one direction, how the world will soon end, or literally anything else

Celegorm tugs on the collar of his shirt and undoes his tie impatiently.

He hates waiting, even if it’s done in a limousine, and somehow Curufin always takes twice as long as everybody else to get ready. For someone who constantly calls out others for being vain, Curufin really is a hypocrite, Celegorm thinks and pours himself a glass of champagne.

Their parents and brothers already left half an hour ago for uncle Finarfin’s Christmas Gala, while Celegorm volunteered to stay behind and wait for Curvo. A decision he is starting to regret.

He has just downed his third glass of champagne and is unbuttoning the fourth button on his shirt, making sure that the top of his six-pack is clearly visible, when the door finally opens and Curufin slips in.

Celegorm is fully prepared to make fun of his little brother’s vanity, but the words die in his throat, when he sees him.

Curufin is dressed in a perfectly tailored midnight blue suit with a black button-down and a tie the same colour as the suit. His black hair, not quite shoulder length, is slicked back in a way that emphasizes his sharp facial features and it shouldn’t look good, but it does, somehow.

Right above the collar of his shirt, Celegorm can see the love bites that he’d placed there yesterday, and it is the most delicious, tempting thing Celegorm has ever seen, making him want to mess up Curufin’s perfect hair, rip that pretty silk shirt apart, and fuck him so hard that he is ruined for anyone else.

Of course, Curufin notices Celegorm’s stare and says, raising an eyebrow condescendingly, “are you trying to be subtle, Tyelko? Because you know you’re not good at that.”

Celegorm opens and closes his mouth a couple of times in response, before he finds words; “I was just… admiring your suit.” It sounds unconvincing even to his own ears and he cringes. Impossibly Curufin manages to make his expression even more disdainful.

“If you’re going to lie to me, you’re gonna have to do better than that,” he says condescendingly and, without waiting for an answer, turns to tell the driver to roll up the partition. Celegorm can only watch in complete surprise, as Curufin turns to back to him with a teasing smirk and a dirty glint in his eyes.

He leans across Celegorm to reach the champagne and the proximity, combined with the (relative) privacy of the limousine, is enough to make most of Celegorm’s blood rush south, and he gets hard embarrassingly fast.

When Curufin finds a third time to press up against Celegorm, his hand brushes over Celegorm’s erection, lightly enough to just be teasing and not at all what Celegorm needs or wants, but not so lightly that it appears accidental.

Celegorm grabs Curufin’s wrist, hard, almost desperate. “What are you doing, Curvo?” he asks, voice strained.

“I’m reaching for the almonds,” Curufin says innocently. Too innocently. The tone of his voice doesn’t match the wicked humour in his eyes, and though no one else might have noticed it, it is obvious to Celegorm that Curufin knows exactly what he’s doing.

With a sharp pull on Curufin’s wrist, Celegorm forces him closer, but when he goes to slide his hands into Curufin’s hair, his brother’s hands are suddenly vice-tight around his wrists. With a smirk, Curufin leans in and kisses the hinge of Celegorm’s jaw.

“What…” Celegorm gasps, as Curufin places a series of wet, biting kisses all the way down his throat and chest, “what are you doing?” Curufin’s tongue finds a nipple, while his hand finds Celegorm’s cock, and Celegorm breaks off, groaning, “oh, fuck, Curvo, don’t stop…”

And for a moment, everything feels amazing; Curufin’s teeth on Celegorm’s neck, Curufin’s hand on Celegorm’s cock.

And then the car stops, and Curufin pulls away from Celegorm, straightening his suit, looking completely unruffled. He looks appraisingly at Celegorm and says: “you should straighten yourself up, Tyelko, unless you want more articles about your apparent nymphomania in US Weekly.”

Celegorm groans, but does as asked, pulling his silver-white hair into a bun and wiping the spit of his throat and chest. There’s nothing to be done about his raging hard-on though, but he figures he’ll be fine, so long as no one looks too closely at his crotch.

…

Walking up the red carpet, surrounded by photographers and actual celebrities, is usually one of Celegorm’s favourite things, loving the attention, but he discovers quickly that when you’re painfully aroused and have to hide it, it is not fun to be surrounded by cameras. Or at the risk of running into your parents.

So Celegorm rushes inside as fast as he can, only pausing twice for family pictures, when he comes across his parents and other brothers. It’s very unlike him to rush through it like this, and he’s certain someone will have written an article about his ‘strange’ and ‘erratic’ behaviour or whatever tomorrow.

Maybe they’ll speculating about his alleged coke-addiction. That rumour had been fun.

Once inside Celegorm doesn’t stop to admire the elaborate, and no doubt expensive, decorations, but simply makes a beeline for the bar.

The bartender (hot in the same way that Oromë had been in Hawai’i three years ago) gives Celegorm a very flirtatious look, and Celegorm briefly entertains the notion of fucking him in the bathroom, but then he sees Curvo out of the corner of his eye, and the bartender doesn’t seem all that interesting anymore.

Instead of screwing the hot bartender (who disappears with Aredhel after two hours anyway), Celegorm spends the night watching his brother from afar, growing increasingly frustrated, and slowly getting drunker.

Okay, it’s not ‘slowly’.

He’s actually been there less than three hours before things start going fuzzy at the edges and he loses track of time. Around midnight, he finds himself at the bar with several of his cousins, in the midst of a drinking contest with Turgon’s friend Glorvendel or something, when he looks up from his sixth (seventh?) shot of tequila to find Curufin staring at him.

That stare, confidently condescending and yet somehow hypnotic, makes Celegorm freeze, with the shot glass halfway to his mouth. Curufin raises an eyebrow sardonically, emptying his own glass (champagne, because Curufin is never anything but classy), and clearly making sure to show off the long line of his neck and the love bites that Celegorm had placed there earlier.

Arousal hits Celegorm like a heavy blow to the stomach, making his abdominal muscles clench deliciously, and he throws back his shot, before stalking over to Curufin almost angrily. Turgon shouts something after him, but Celegorm waves it off, eyes fixed on his little brother.

“Tyelko, what…?” is all Curufin manages, before Celegorm wraps a hand around his upper arm and drags him towards the exit.

“We are leaving,” he growls, pushing people aside uncaringly to get to the door.

“I have to tell mum, we’re leaving,” Curufin protests.

“Text her,” is Celegorm’s uncaring answer, and then they’re outside. Celegorm stops for a moment, without letting go of Curvo, and looks around, trying to spot their car and driver.

After a minute, Curufin makes an irritated sound and says: “you’re looking the wrong way, dumbass.” Celegorm turns, looks to where Curufin is pointing, and sees their car, the driver asleep in the front seat. “Come on,” Curufin says, almost impatiently, and pushes Celegorm slightly.

Celegorm nods, without saying anything, and pulls Curufin towards the car. While Celegorm climbs into the back and gets comfortable on the leather seating, slipping off his jacket and opening his shirt completely, Curufin wakes the driver and tells him to drive them home.

“Take the scenic route,” Celegorm adds and the driver, who doesn’t know they’re brothers thankfully, nods and says ‘yes, sir’, while Curufin slides into the seat next to Celegorm. Barely has the door shut behind him, before Celegorm grabs him arm and pulls him closer.

“You have been getting on my nerves all fucking night, little brother,” he growls, and pulls Curufin into a deep, biting kiss.

Curufin moans and, straddling Celegorm, tries to dominate the kiss, but Celegorm refuses to give in. It takes several bites to Curufin’s lower lip, and a pinch to his left nipple, before he yields and lets Celegorm do what he wants.

Celegorm groans into the kiss, and then finally ( _finally_ ) does what he’s wanted to do all night, and rips Curufin’s silk shirt apart. Curufin breaks their kiss, no doubt to say something scathing, but breaks off with a moan, when Celegorm pulls on his hair with one hand, while dragging the nails of his other hand down Curufin’s back and bowing his head to bite Curufin’s nipple.

“Tyelko,” he gasps, hands grasping Celegorm’s pale hair and pulling on it, “kiss me again, fuck, please…” And the sound of Curufin’s begging is so sweet, that Celegorm has to obey him, reaching up to kiss him again, while his hands fumble with Curufin’s belt.

When he finally gets his hand on Curufin’s hard cock, Curufin breaks their kiss, breathing hotly against the shell of Celegorm’s ear, while his hands (slender, elegant, Celegorm loves those hands, is the slave of those hands) slip beneath the waistband of Celegorm’s trousers, moving over in his cock slowly, rhythm matching Celegorm’s on Curufin’s cock.

For a moment that is all it is; hands on cocks, matching rhythms, a deep, wet kiss. But then Celegorm lets go of Curufin’s hair, to slide his hand down the back of Curufin’s trousers, moving over his ass, pressing the tip of his finger against Curvo’s hole.

Curufin breaks the kiss, to moan, “oh, fuck yes, Tyelko, please,” and Celegorm grins broadly, pulling his hand out of Curufin’s trousers again.

“Then get naked, bro,” he says, grinning.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m one of your ridiculous fraternity brothers,” Curufin says irritably, while sliding off of Celegorm, to wriggle out of his trousers and shrug off his suit jacket and ruined button-down.

“Joke’s on you,” Celegorm says, reaching over to grab the lube that he left next to the alcohol earlier, “none of the fraternities on campus would take me. I’m ‘too crazy’.”

“Shut up,” Curufin says, now completely naked. Celegorm, for his part, is still wearing his trousers, though they’re unbuttoned, and he hasn’t bothered to put his cock away.

Curufin stops for a moment, just looking at Celegorm, and Celegorm grins. He knows what he looks like, like this; built like Chris Evans, with his silver-y hair all mussed up, lounging like a delinquent (as his father might say), his broad chest and cock both on full display.

A rogue and a fiend, is what Oromë would have said, bless him.

Curufin, however, doesn’t waste time on words, but simply straddles Celegorm again, kissing him deeply. Celegorm returns the kiss, but his attention is divided, as he is also slicking up his fingers and moving back to press them against Curufin’s hole.

He buries his free hand in Curufin’s hair, holding him still, as he slides a finger into him. Curufin gasps against him but doesn’t break the kiss, until Celegorm has two fingers buried to the hilt in him.

“Stop fucking around, and fuck me,” Curufin gasps and Celegorm laughs.

“Desperate, huh? It suits you,” he says, pulling his fingers out, and helping Curufin lift up, so he can sink down on Celegorm’s cock. They both moan, as he does; Celegorm from the tightness, Curufin from the feeling of fullness.

“Fuck me, Tyelko,” Curufin gasps, raking his nails down Celegorm’s chest, “please, please…”

With a grunt, Celegorm manages to lift Curufin and lay him down on the other seat. From the driver’s seat comes the low sounds of a Beyoncé song.

Curufin spreads his legs, letting Celegorm rest between them, and goes to pull on his hair again, but Celegorm grins wolfishly and grabs Curufin’s wrists, holding them down above his head. Curufin strains against him, but Celegorm is stronger.

“Let me go,” he says, eyes flashing, and Celegorm’s grin widens.

“Nah, I don’t think I will,” is his answer. He shifts his hold, so he can use his right hand to guide his cock back into Curvo without releasing him. Curufin tries to break free again, but gives up and moans instead, when Celegorm presses into him again.

For a moment that’s all it is, friction, Celegorm rocking gently into Curufin, their lips close enough for their breaths to mingle though it never actually turns into a real kiss. With the soft glow of the light in the limo and the softness of their fucking, the mood is almost romantic.

Until Curufin reaches up and bites Celegorm’s lower lip savagely. Celegorm pulls back and licks his lip to soothe the hurt, tasting blood. With a growl he abandons all pretence of gentle or soft or romantic. Placing a hand around Curufin’s neck, he changes the rhythm, pulling almost all the way out of him and slamming back.

He sets a brutal pace, pressing down on Curufin’s windpipe, and leans down to bite Curvo’s earlobe. Curufin, for his part, can do nothing but moan and try to hold on as Celegorm fucks him.

“Are you gonna come?” Celegorm whispers in his ear, “hm? You gonna come on your big brother’s cock? Imagine if the world could see you now, Curvo; pristine, perfect Curufin, begging his brother to fuck him, being a little slut.”

He punctuates the words with a particularly deep thrust, making Curufin gasp, “Tyelko… I’m… I’m gonna come…”

“Yeah?” Celegorm says, “then do it. I don’t care. I’m gonna keep fucking you until I finish, and you’ll let me. Do you know why?” Curufin moans again, but doesn’t answer. Celegorm takes his hand of Curvo’s wrist and squeezes tight around the base of Curvo’s cock, staving off his orgasm.

Curufin whimpers loudly in response.

“Answer me,” Celegorm commands, “and I’ll let you come. Or I’ll get myself off and leave you like this.”

“Because,” Curufin manages finally, “because I’m yours… oh god, _please_ , Tyelko…” Celegorm grins widely.

“Well, that’s all you had to say, sweetheart,” he says and lets go of Curvo’s cock, leaning back and fucking him as hard as he can. It takes only a few thrusts, before Curufin’s coming all over himself. Celegorm fucks him through it, and then keeps going, chasing his own climax.

It comes, when Curufin pulls him down, and whispers in his ear, “I’m yours, Tyelko, but only because you are mine. My pet. I own you.” He places a kiss at the hinge of Celegorm’s jaw, and Celegorm comes with a groan. Curufin holds him close as he shakes through it, stroking his hair.

When Celegorm finally slumps down bonelessly on top of Curufin, it takes only a moment for their lips to meet in the deepest and laziest kiss they’ve shared all night.

“We can’t keep doing this,” Curufin murmurs against Celegorm’s lips.

“I know,” Celegorm murmurs back, “let’s not talk about that right now, though.”

Any protest Curufin might have made is cut off by Celegorm’s lips.


End file.
